


a shadow

by Dribbles



Series: in dark rooms [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Crime, M/M, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 14:19:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15414861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dribbles/pseuds/Dribbles
Summary: In the dark room, all he had to do was press record then leave. Yixing didn't expect to become attached, to be the shadow cast by Baekhyun's light.





	a shadow

  
  
The cigarette starts to singe his knuckles. Yixing watches the smoke rise from his fingers, catching the breeze as it burns away leaving a leaning tower of ash. It burns away like the time he spends waiting. Patiently waiting in the downcast light, against cold concrete walls. His skin sinks down into the structure of his face, features hollowed out by dark shadows. His lips dry, sealed together. They make no movement. No sound passes. His eyes do all the talking. Half open and docile, they communicate nothing but resignation, barely twitching at the sight of Jongin appearing from the dark, carelessly jogging across a busy street, cars honking when he cusses them out, spit bursting from his lips. Yixing doesn’t even nod at his greeting that’s all wicked eyes and a cheeky grin.  
  
“You ready?” The question really an assumption, wetting his lips with an obscene lick.  
  
It doesn't really matter if Yixing is or not, so he just flicks the dead bud from his fingers with indifference and follows Jongin. His feet pass over concrete and onto weathered floorboards. Yixing watches Jongin’s shoulders swagger and flow with the music. His bare shoulder peeking from a loose shirt. He watches Jongin’s mischievous smile get lost in the crowd, swallowed up by dancing bodies. The music beats so hard, he feels it vibrate right through to his internal organs. It’s dizzying.  
  
Instead of letting the music take him too, he retreats to the bar. Without words, the bartender only needs a signal for his regular: chilled soda water because it’s free. He isn’t interested in getting wasted. He is working after all, even though Jongin constantly tells him to join in. That it will be fun. But really he couldn’t give two fucks and doesn't want to get involved. All he has to do is hit record then leave.  
  
Yixing slouches against the surface of the bar, littered with puddles of beer. His gaze narrows in on his reflection, warped by liquid and flashing lights of gold and amber. With every second passing, that image of himself screws and swirls until he cannot recognize himself and that distinctive, stoic expression chipped into his features. The vibration of his phone pulses against his hip. The message curt like every interaction with Jongin.  
  
I found someone  
Come outside  
  
Yixing brushes his sweaty thumb across the text as if to smudge it away. But it just remains. Burning into his vision, inescapable. But thoughts of the stacks that will fill his pockets are enough to get him back on his legs and out into the night. Money has that effect on him. It makes him do so much worse.  
  
Jongin sways by the curbside, a set of flimsy arms draped around him like a coiled snake. He giggles, high off of something when a tongue licks up the side of his neck and sucks at his lobe. Yixing observes the stranger as he moans against Jongin’s skin, only getting fragments of a buried nose, crinkled brows and closed eyes.  
  
“Baekhyun,” Jongin smirks peering into Yixing’s detachment. “This is Yixing,” he says as if like he’d already been mentioned. Yixing recoils, not liking the way Jongin so easily talks about him behind his back. But he says nothing, leaving his eyes to speak with stern brows  
  
Baekhyun’s neck lazily turns to him, revealing shiny eyes and the softest smile. Yixing stills a moment at the brightness. His eyes boring into the slender hands that unwind themselves from Jongin and reach out to shake his hand.  
  
“Hello,” he drawls, the fragrance of alcohol on his breath. His stare is locked on to him, then whines and rolls back the whites of his eyes at the feeling of Jongin squeezing the flesh of his ass. “Let’s go” he urges from behind, eagerly pulling at Baekhyun down the street. But he refuses to move, feet drilled in place as his eyes Yixing off. Intense and spellbound. “You gonna come too?” he smirks biting at his lip. “Don’t bother,” Jongin sighs, exacerbated, walking back towards the heat of Baekhyun’s body to whisper, “he’ll watch us. That’s it”. Baekhyun embellishes a pout, and with the deepest eyes and the smoothest voice he utters, “pity”.  
  
Baekhyun’s knees ache against the hard ground. With every thrust his voice breaks, loving the sound on Jongin’s waist whacking against this ass cheeks. Feeling shimmers of delight dance over his skin. His head hangs low, staring at the mat below him, a wet patch forming from saliva that drips from his open mouth. His fingers scrunch at the rough texture below.  
  
“You like that, slut?” Jongin says, a dark mumur.  
  
Baekhyun whines out loud, his tongue lazy and jaw tight.  
  
Jongin grabs at his hair, all sweat and oil. His head yanks up at the force of it. His moan catches on the tension. When he opens his eyes, he is blinded by a single bright light. He squints at it trying to find the man behind the camera. He can just make out his silhouette and the subtle light that bounces back into pearlescent eyes. Baekhyun winks. Licks the corner of his mouth. Wants Yixing to see it all. To capture it. To be seduced by it.  
  
“You like to be watched huh?” Jongin groans.  
  
He nods quickly, expression desperate and seeking approval from the man hiding in the shadows with glowing eyes. Baekhyun craves his attention.  
  
Wants to be the reason to make him speak. To moan his name.  
  
Couldn’t take his eyes off Yixing all the way back to Jongin’s place. Felt electricity flicker inside him every time Yixing peered back, watching him gulp when he stripped bare in front of him. Baekhyun stares at the camera, letting his body jolt with every pound, his dick becoming harder at the thought of Yixing’s voice. Imagining what it would sound like against this neck. How his expression would crumble coming hot over his face.  
  
“You like to watch me, Yixing?” Baekhyun chances. Jongin slows down, lowering his lips over his sweat covered spine, huffing out a laugh. “Yixing doesn’t like anything”. Baekhyun shivers from the gust of air against his wet skin. His neck muscles flexing even further back as Jongin sucks at his shoulder, his joints feeling like they’ll pop. Jongin’s dick slams in all the way, vicious and Baekhyun yells out abrupt. Those hips swerve and circulate, letting go of dark stands and gripping pelvic bones that jut out of the skin.  
  
“Yixing, get a close-up,” Jongin orders looking down at the way his cock glistens in the stark light of the phone’s bright torch. Baekhyun hears the squeak of sneakers against tile. Sees them walk into his line of sight, where his head hangs back down low. Can make out the dirt marring the white leather, slightly cracked. Laces are woven together into a clump of knots, the plastic frayed at the ends. He would lick them clean if Yixing told him to. His ass burns with pleasure. Jongin pounding into him. He lets his tongue hang loose, showing his want. He looks up again. Yixing is there peering down with that same docile expression and tight brows.  
  
Baekhyun’s hands move on their own. He can’t think anymore. His mind filling up with mind-blowing excitement. The unimaginable thrill he gets as his fingers crawl up the coarse texture of Yixing’s jeans, staring intently up with a desperate plea. Not being told to stop. He pulls himself up, leaning against the strength of solid legs, breathing into the heat of his groin.  
  
“You like your cock sucked?” He whispers saliva thick on his lips, palm rubbing down Yixing’s front, the zipper dragging across his flesh. There is no reply. But Baekhyun continues, wants it so bad. He squints back into the light, flutters his lashes and adds pressure to his hand. Doesn’t feel Yixing back away.  
  
“I’ll take you deep…” he continues breathy, the warmth sinking into the denim, “…you can fuck my mouth”. Yixing’s hips move closer. He smiles into him, the tip of his fingers tracing down the teeth of the metal zip. The sound of his nail grazing against it rattles his brain. When he feels Yixing push into him again Beakhyun hums with joy.  
  
“Maybe he likes you after all,” Jongin says.  
  
Yixing’s cock grows harder in his hand. His nostrils flutter at the salty scent. The light from the phone casts down bright and white, exposing veins through translucent skin. The tip reddens and Baekhyun eases out his tongue to lick the slit. Flicks it with more pressure, buries it inside. His lips softly caress the head. He hums against it as he twirls wetness around it. Baekhyun’s eyes wobble with unshed tears the moment Yixing pushes into the hotness of his mouth. The length stopping the breath that tries to escape his lungs. Yixing fucks him slowly, propelling further down his throat. His tongue stays flat against him, eyes stuck on Yixing’s darkened glare, still holding onto Jongin’s phone. Not making a single sound.  
  
Jongin gawks at the sight: Baekhyun’s head pushing against Yixing’s pelvis. Amazed as he starts fucking Baekhyun harder. Harder. Until it’s painful. Until he goes numb with blind pleasure. Until his mind blurs to evade the memories. Until he cums, eyes closed but seeing those dark eyes that haunt him like a ghost. He fills the condom but feels empty inside. As always.  
  
It's still dark when Jongin’s eyes flutter open. He sits himself up from the floor. His floor covered in thin mats that hardly make for a comfortable sleep. Half-naked bodies rest beside him. He grows jealous of their peaceful slumber. His long hair flops over his eyes, rubbing them out of their fatigue. His phone sits idle on the tile, its dark screen reflecting the moon’s light. It’s full. Jongin always counts them hoping this will be the one that will fulfil his wish. He turns it on, his fingers taking him to the last video saved. He skims through fifteen minutes worth of thumbnails. Heated fragments. Baekhyun legs open wide. His cock entering spread cheeks. The embarrassing glare he gives the camera when Baekhyun goes down on him. Jongin stops on the last couple of minutes. He watches as the light blows out the whiteness of Baekhyun’s face as lips stretch around Yixing’s dick. Watches the cum that glistens over his cheeks, eyes soaked in ecstasy.    
  
He can’t even believe that happened, laughing to himself behind his hand. He looks over at their sleeping bodies, arms touching and he’s starting to feel like a third wheel. They are swirled amongst the cheap ass sheets he hasn't washed in weeks. Stained from other bodies, all documented in 720p resolution. He hates himself for it. He fucks them because he can. Because people want him. Tell him he’s sexy and he can do whatever he wants. Mark them. Fuck them. Violate them. Because it's better than knowing he’ll be alone. Because he is alone.  
  
Nails scratch at his scalp. He hasn’t been able to sleep properly in 3 years. Not since he left. The scar on his back, a warning to never return, but a constant reminder of what he left behind. Those dark eyes, a hushed yet deep voice and those secret promises to wait for each other until the sky collapses.  
  
It’s why his lungs stop working when his phone jumps across the floor. An unknown number. His fingers visibly shake. His mind reeling at the possibility. No, It couldn’t be. It’s impossible. The anticipation is a bullet that rips through his stomach as he raises the receiver to his ear.  
  
“It’s me”. Jongin listens. It’s all he can do.  
  
Tears fall freely, simmering down his skin in the shadow of night.  
  
“The Grey Owl Inn. Come now”.  
  
The disembodied voice rumbles through the phone, quiet but full and in an instant cuts off. Jongin sits completely stunned, missing it already. He knows that voice knows every facet. Its sound waves ripple through his whole body as he shakes with unrelenting sobs, keeping as quiet as he can. He races around, composing himself with deep breaths only packing what he needs, rubbing away the moisture from his eyes. They burn when he blinks, but it’s the most brilliant pain.  
  
Glass shatters on the first hit. Metal splits against the force of the hammer. A sim card is left bent out of shape by his brushed boot. A total eraser of the last three years. Of those bodies lit brightly in dark rooms, compressed down to whirring, coloured pixels. Of what he had become. The manifestation of a lonely heart. Jongin pummels it away over and over feeling nothing but elation seeing the phone destroyed, smashing it smithereens along with his past. He beats it as he cries sniffling when he remembers to breathe. He grabs the keys to his car resting on a dusty surface and flees to the door. He turns back at the click of a lighter. Yixing is awake. The flash warms his face, tired and distant. He takes a long inhalation, the smoke slowly swirling out his nose. Jongin thinks he spots a question in the smallest twitch of his eyebrow.  
  
“I’m going,” he says. Yixing remains vacant.  
  
“Use the place if you want. I’m not coming back”.  
  
The pull of the window squeaks. Yixing dusts his hands, covered in the dirt coating the large window frame like thick powder. The smell of nicotine still in the air slowly leaves. He takes the time to meander around, his bare feet padding softly through the few square meters. He takes a leak and sees a mess of cellular phone shrapnel scattered over the grimy tiles, evidence of the noise that woke him up. He steps over it, crunching against his shoe and brushes what he can to the edge of the room, littered with dust mites and pubic hair.  
  
This place was not a home really. But maybe Yixing can make it his. He is familiar enough with the layout. Knows the toilet flush refuses to work. Knows there is never any food in the fridge if it even works. That he can use the portable gas stove to burn his cigarette if he forgets his lighter. Knows it mostly at night, in the murky darkness, the light bulbs blown and never replaced. It always smells of willowy ash, the bathroom of mildew. There is a singular key that catches the ambient light on the kitchen counter tops, decorated with rings of coffee cup stains. He picks it up, the metal warming in his hands when he tries it out on the front door. It fits and turns. Jongin probably had it made. Squatters don’t usually have keys. He takes it into his wallet, stuffing it back in his pocket.  
  
His sweater lays crumpled on the ground, his phone and a pack of cigarettes hide amongst the folds. He wants another one, but its empty now. He looks to Baekhyun sleeping peacefully, limbs splayed out amongst thin sheets. Yixing takes the time to observe the curve of his ass and the bend of his legs, the only flesh he sees are his toes poking out. In a built-in wardrobe he finds a blanket barely folded, the edges ripped but it is thick in his hands. It should keep them warm enough while the outside breeze freshens the stale air. His stomach growls at him and wonders if he should go to the convenience store down the road. Baekhyun shouldn’t wake up, the way his eyes fell shut from exhaustion the moment he fell down from his high. Cumming when Yixing stroked his cheek.  
  
He locks the door behind him, cash in pocket as he strolls down the abandoned streets. No sane person would think of coming through here anyway. Danger always hiding in the shadows of back alleys and basements. The sky is blank, like his expression, twitching his brow as a stray cat screeches past him. He stops to bend down, whistling out a soft tune. Its whiskers brush against Yixing’s fingers, purring at the scratches under its furry chin.  
  
The lights of the convenience store illuminate stark white and sterile. His eyes adjust to the glare, silently walking through each aisle, searching for something cheap and pre-made. Yixing’s mind teeters like a see-saw as he stares at the rows of kimbap, the reverberating hum of the refrigerators filling the silence. His fingers hover over their plastic wrapping, still deciding. One or two?  
  
The ends of his fingers peek out of long sleeves. A plastic bag hangs in one hand by a bent finger, the other holding a cigarette bud, smoke drifting into nothing. The night still hanging around as his sneakers scrape along the asphalt, taking route along the middle of an empty road. Dilapidated wear-houses and abandoned buildings line the streets. Distance cries for help and the muted bang of a gun, the soundtrack for his life. Nothing irks him though, as he strides, shoulders slack and pace unhurried. It's normal. All just a pattern of rival fists that thwack against bleeding flesh, bitter voices that spit vengeance and punishing those who go against the grain. Yixing stares ahead, TV static buzzing at the back of his mind.  
  
The key in his pocket feels heavy. He plays with the teeth, pushing his thumb against the jagged edge. It reminds him of the way his zipper sounded against Baekhyun’s hard nail. The thought sends a shiver down his spine. An unexpected thrill, brightly coloured and catching his eye amongst all the grey. How Baekhyun’s pink mouth was full of him, begging him, eyes a warm brown and asking for more. Yixing was transfixed as he drew closer. Mind turning illogical, the whirring in his ears blocking outrage shock in Jongin’s voice.  
  
All he wanted was to hear that desperate rasp calling out his name. That voice that hypnotized him.  
  
Opening the door he sees Baekhyun still asleep, burrowed under the blanket he layered on top. A drip of warmth leaves the waters of his mind rippling softly. He leaves his purchases atop the kitchen countertops. He takes his sweater off, aligning himself back under the blanket near Baekhyun’s heat. He looks down at the tuft of hair, remembers Jongin pulling at it. He bites his lip. He stares at the back of Baekhyun’s head, sees the way his body slightly lifts with every breath. Suddenly Yixing wants to feel it against his own skin.    
  
Gently he pulls down at the blanket. Slowly revealing Baekhyun’s shoulders, how his blades protrude against his cotton tee. His arms are folded up under his chest, sleeping with contorted limbs, the discomfort a welcome pain. Then the blanket is gone again. His eyes grow hungry at the soft flesh of Baekhyun’s ass. The shadows of his natural dips make Yixing want to explore. Its slight hairs illuminated by an open window. Yixing’s feels himself get harder, resting his hand on top of his dick. Then does nothing but let the anticipation grow. Telling himself to touch but not wanting to just yet. Doesn't want him to wake up. He pushes down on his dick, the slight pressure addictive.  
  
He didn’t get to see Baekhyun up close, but with Jongin gone he can. He lowers himself down the length of Beakhyun’s body. On his hands and knees, he hovers over him. Nose inches from his ass. He licks his lips and inhales the scent of sweat and dried cum. He wants to see. Gets his phone to light up the darkness, to show him Baekhyun’s soft pinkness.  
  
The torch is bright enough that Yixing can make out tiny blemishes on the curve of his skin. How his hair grows darker and thicker between his legs, over his thighs and down to his ankles. He can just make out his balls. Thinks about rolling them over his tongue. His fingers dip into the dimples of his back and traces lines connecting dotted beauty marks. Yixing stops breathing at the slightest movement. He waits hands frozen. Baekhyun then settles and continues the even deep breathing of his restful sleep.  
  
With a racing heart, Yixing aligns his thumb at the top of his crack and sweeps it down till he reaches his rim, feels the ripples of tight skin under his touch. When Baekhyun doesn't stir, Yixing lowers his face again, pulling apart supple cheeks and takes a long inhalation, till his lungs are full of his smell. He exhales, shuddering against his hole, watches it contract open as if just for him. It turns him on, his mouth pooling with thick saliva. He just wants a small taste. The tip of his tongue touches the opening of Baekhyun’s hole. His eyes close at the contact, momentarily lost in his desire. He double checks if he is awake yet. He isn’t so Yixing tries again but deeper. With two hands he makes room for his mouth to mould against Baekhyun’s asshole. His wet lips kiss at it softly, stopping when Baekhyun makes an airy noise from his mouth.  
  
Yixing doesn't care anymore. He pushes himself forward until his nose scrunches. His tongue penetrates Baekhyun like melted wax, hot and smooth. He licks in swirls, tasting the residue of latex and lubricant. He wants to keep going till he cleans it all away. Until it’s just the taste of Baekhyun. He doesn’t notice the moans. Not until a hand combs through his hair. At the touch, Yixing stills and peers up, eyes in a daze. Baekhyun’s neck twists back to look at him with raised brows and droopy eyes. Yixing kisses at his right cheek. Bites down on it. Baekhyun flinches and audibly gasps.  
  
“Fuck,” he whispers back into the pillow. His hands moving to pull at the musty material of dirty sheets.  
  
Yixing licks at the indentations of his teeth. Bites down on it again. Nothing beating the sound of Baekhyun groaning because of his touch. His hands harden, massaging the flesh, pulling and stretching it, his thumbs rubbing at him, teasing him open. Baekhyun’s hips rise and fall, letting Yixing control when and where they move.  
  
Yixing makes out with his hole, slurping, trying to find the suction of his lips around it. His saliva drools from his mouth and the urge to spit at it is instant. He watches the way it drips down in the ambient light of his abandoned phone, shining against the cobweb-covered ceiling. He spits again, soaking Baekhyun’s hole. It glitters as Yixing stares at it dumbfounded, completely overtaken, hit with his intense lust. He pulls it open, revealing a pretty pinkness.  
  
The trail of spit leads down to his swollen balls, tensing when he sucks on them, stuffing his mouth, the hair brushing over his closed eyelids. Baekhyun whines. Yixing kisses up his back, sloppy and wet. It must tickle when Yixing’s tongue spirals around Baekhyuns ear, unable to stop the aroused giggles. Yixing spoons him from behind, his solid chest fitting snug up against him.  
  
“Fuck, you are so hot Yixing,” Baekhyun rasps moving with him as he grids his pelvis against his bare ass. “It’s so fucking good,” he rattles on, Yixing content to lick and suck at Baekhyun’s ear, his breath blowing like violent waves crashing against the shore. Baekhyun hums at the grip clenching at his hip, skin burning with the stretch. Yixing pulls him closer when he feels Baekhyun loses control of his body.  
  
The heat of Yixing’s tongue is paralyzing.  
  
“Yixing…” he whispers again trying to gain control of his mouth, “I wanna feel you in me,” whining when Yixing’s hands don’t move. He just continues to tease. Thrusting. Feeling. Licking. His eyes wild listening to him pathetically beg him.  
  
He captures Baekhyun’s wrists when they try to reach back for his fly, holding them down at his lower back. He grunts in his ear and continues to grind down insanely slow, pulling him apart with his tongue flicking at the shell of his ear. Baekhyun breathes out, coloured in anguish.  
  
“Fuck me, Yixing” he says sobbing.

  
Yixing stops. Baekhyun holds his breath. A surprise jolts him to his core when Yixing’s hands force him to turn over. Pliant arms in his grasp. Face to face. Against Baekhyun’s open mouth, Yixing demurely licks at his chapped lips and softly commands him to be silent, with a soft and airy shush. Baekhyun slips his tongue in all the way, nearly choking on the satisfaction. Yixing sucks on it, the suction tight, tugging at Baekhyun’s hands, so they slip down the back of his jeans. His gaze intense as they kiss, sloppy and sluggish. Baekhyun’s feels Yixing's rim contract, feels the fuzz of fine hairs. Lets his finger circle it until Yixing finally makes a noise. The deep moan resonates from his chest, vibrating against Baekhyun’s. His ears indulge at the enigmatic sound.  
  
Yixing does the same, fingers playing with Baekhyun’s saliva, coated opening. They pull each other into a tight embrace, limbs aching from the strength of it, trying to get closer as they play with each other's holes.  
  
Baekhyun pulls his thigh up, hooking Yixing in by the waist, wanting to become inseparable. They kiss feverishly, bucking his dick into the texture of rough denim. Baekhyun knows Yixing is hard. Wants to feel his cock. The heat of it against his hand, palms at it, deepening the kiss. He fumbles for the zip and pulls down. He wants to look at it again. How beautifully dark it was. How it pulsed against the wall of his mouth.  
  
Yixing kisses down his neck and back up behind his ear. The wind picks up outside but Baekhyun thinks he hears a whisper. An order to turn over. It's hushed, hidden within the sound of the breeze. Subliminal. Baekhyun does as told. Yixing’s solid cock slides against his crack. It's length passing up over his hole, till the tip pokes out from between the soft shadows of his cheeks. Over and over the teasing won’t stop and Baekhyun just wants to yell. But he doesn’t because Yixing told him not to, with those hushed sounds and that commanding brow etched into his expression.  
  
Yixing winds his arms around Baekhyun’s torso holding him close, till it’s crushing. He slips his hands under his shirt and pinches down on his swollen nipples.  
  
Baekhun’s tears break through and down his cheek when he finally feels fingers grace his cock. He jolts at the tiny bit of attention. A single fingertip that rubs gently at the slit and down the swollen vein, wet from precum. His balls tighten at every brisk touch, Yixing never once taking it in his full grip. It’s maddening but Baekhyun can’t help but keen at the attention. His mind bursting with clouds of euphoria. Limbs turn to mush. Hands lie limp by his shoulder. The feeling of Yixing ravishing his body, doing whatever he wants with it, intoxicating.  
  
He lies dazed, feeling the tip of Yixing’s cock push past and enter him fully. So slow, so hot that Baekhyun thinks he missed it, that Yixing has been fucking into him lazily for hours. Yixing pulls all the way out and edges back in, burying his face into Baekhyun’s neck, smelling the sweat gathering at his hairline. He wants to stay there, breath it in always. Uses every bit of his energy to prolong each thrust, teasing himself. Stopping completely when Baekhyun wails for more, taking a gentle finger back to the tip of Baekhyun’s throbbing cock. The textures of it changing. Wet.  
  
Baekhyun jolts, the pleasure of turning into a searing dull burn. He has never been fucked like this. So deep and unhurried. Yixing’s breath tickles his ears. He smiles at the sensation, too ruined to giggle. His back feels wet. His whole body burns up. Yixing’s touch gentle and soft, but firm and commandeering. Every thrust becomes shorter. Baekhyun feels Yixing’s cock completely fill him up, feels his pelvis stay close to his bum, marked from bites and Yixing’s tight hold. Yixing’s hand caresses his thigh. Moves over it with his whole palm. Follows the curve of it leading to his dick. His mind screams for Yixing to touch it, to jerk him off. But it stops short at the base of his balls. Yixing plays with his hair, slightly pulling at the stands. His other hand splayed against the drumming of his chest, Baekhyun’s laboured breathing dancing over his forearm. He clenches his jaw at the tightening of Baekhyun’s rim. Feels that he could be close. Grasps his jaw and pulls Baekhyun back into another kiss, licking and panting into each other mouths.  
  
His keeps in control of his slow hips, escalating in power. Baekhyun whines till his voice breaks and catches on another. Till it crumbles like rock into sand. Yixing, fucking into him deeply. When he comes, it feels like he turns to vapour. Like his body hovers over the shit and filth, engulfed by nothing but cosmic beauty. His legs shake. His cock squirting out hot cum over and over. The rush feeling endless.  
  
Yixing keeps his arms locked around his body as it shakes, the contact luscious against his searing skin. Yixing observes every moment. His mouth drops in awe as Baekhyun eyes flutter open and shut, still reeling from the high. His hair messy, sticking to his forehead, the dewiness of sweat making his nose and cheeks shine. His lips hang open. They look like the bud of a rose. They bloom with a rich warm colour. Yixing thinks that it's beautiful. Beautiful in a way that he rarely ever gets to see.  
  
Baekhyun finds his focus again, staring up at Yixing, caressing his cheek. “Yixing...”  
  
He reaches his hand down to Yixing’s dick. It’s still hard. Still covered by a condom. He takes it in his hand but Yixing pulls it away.  
  
“Later,” Yixing whispers with a modest smile. He kisses Baekhyun’s lips softly, then at his sweaty temple and at the beauty mark by his nose.  
  
Baekhyun watches Yixing get up, tuck himself back into his briefs, the fly left undone. His silhouette gracefully moves through the darkness, his shoulders slack, muscles lean, a shaved undercut embellishing the shape of his neck. Small hands that rummage through the tranquil rustling of transparent plastic.  
  
Jongin must have been playing with him. Yixing doesn’t seem dangerous at all.  
  
“Here, eat this”.  
  
Baekhyun reaches out, his palm carrying the weight Yixing’s soft-spoken offering. He squints his eyes in the darkness to read the label: tuna and mayonnaise. He laughs from the depths of his belly, eyes sparkling stuffing his mouth with rice and seaweed. Yixing hides a smile when he bites into his, glad he bought two. They sit cross-legged, residue from their bodies seeping into the sheets pooled around them.  
  
Sirens call out in the distance. Garbage cans clatter from below the window. Plastic wrapping squeaks and Baekhyun moans from the taste, satisfied. “Thanks,” he grins, licking up the bits of food from the corners of his mouth. Yixing nods through a final gulp. A silent response. He leans forward, weight dropping to his palms. He kisses Baekhyun again. Because he can. Because he can see that he wants it, cups a hand to his jaw, Baeyhyun breathing out a sigh of relief.  
  
“I like the way you kiss me,” Baekhyun utters wistfully, drawing invisible lines over Yixing’s features that melt under his touch. He fiddles with his bottom lip, full like a teardrop just about to fall from a petal. Yixing pouts, pecking each finger that passing over his mouth. Soft and gentle, but his eyes still dark, clear-cut shadows carved under his eyes. A hint of that danger living in the fine lines by his lashes. Baekhyun's gut fills with a whirlpool of anticipation, like that rush on a roller coaster ride.  
  
“Is it true what Jongin said about you?” Baekhyun’s eyelids heavy as they lay side by side.  
  
“Depends,” Yixing says transfixed by Baekhyun’s hair, feeling it pass through his fingers. Tugging at the strand at the base of his neck.  
  
“He said you cracked someone’s skull open… I can’t imagine it”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because... you seem sweet”.  
  
Baekhyun’s tired smile lights up his whole face. His hair, so soft. His body so warm when he pulls them closer together.  
  
“I’m not,” mouths over Baekhyun’s lips with the taste of salt. “I hurt people. They pay, I hurt. I twist their necks, rip them apart till their heart stops beating”. The grip on Baekhyun’s hair tightens, pulling at the roots, head back and neck exposed. Yixing licks at the protruding muscles, feeling his throat hum. “They beg. I love it when they beg”.  
  
Baekhyun’s arms wrap around his neck, fists at his hair, pulling them back into a kiss. Their lips tremble, their breaths ragged swallowing it all up in more passionate kisses. “You gonna hurt me?” Baekhyun flicks his tongue against Yixing’s. They hold each other close rocking into each other like waves.  
  
“No”.  
  
“What then?”  
  
“If anyone hurt you I’d put a bullet between their eyes,” his response instant. Certain.  
  
“You protect me then?” Yixing nods.  
  
“Follow me around? Be my shadow?”  
  
“Yes”.  
  
“What do I do?”  
  
“Whatever you want”.  
  
Baekhyun’s thoughts blur like drops of ink bleeding out into crystal clear water. Yixing’s cock hard again rubbing over his clenching abdomen. His nail flick at his nipples in glorious pain. Baekhyun rolls his weight over, till his body presses against Yixing, straddling his waist and hands locking down his wrists. Heat merging together into one.  
  
“Whatever I want?”  
  
Yixing bucks up firm, nodding as he bites his lip.  
  
Baekhyun’s eyes light up with exhilaration, piercing with vibrancy. He slowly rotates his hips, dragging his cock over Yixing’s hardness. Lowering his head, nuzzling at his nose and finding comfort in the crook of his neck he attaches himself with bare teeth. He consumes Yixing, potent, like the smoking barrel of a gun.  
  
“Teach me to hurt people. So I can protect you too”.

 

 

~

 


End file.
